


Play with Fire

by JayDick_Hell



Series: JayDick Fic Event [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Powers, M/M, dystopian setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayDick_Hell/pseuds/JayDick_Hell
Summary: Ever since the fall of the Heroes decades ago the world has been delved into darkness. A new authoritarian regime rose and brought with it a new servile way of life.Every whisper of revolution was snuffed before it could pass more than a few hundred mouths. Every hope of change and freedom was crushed with extreme prejudice.Every now and again a rumor would rise of some who couldn't be controlled. Those that the technology and cybernetics rejected. Those with gifts well beyond what the authority could fight. They were called the Iconoclast. Again, those rumors would be silenced but they were there. And, most importantly, they weretrue.





	Play with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> #10 for the Fic Event!
> 
> I...don't know what this is tbh lol A Cyberpunk Dystopian AU with powers? 
> 
> Catch me on Tumblr: [JayDick-Hell](http://jaydick-hell.tumblr.com/)

Ever since the fall of the Heroes decades ago the world has been delved into darkness. A new authoritarian regime rose and brought with it a new servile way of life. Implants were given to citizens - 'a revolution in technology', they claimed - either with or without their consent. It was impressive, really, what the implants could do. How the web was at ones finger tips with holographic projections and neural interfaces. But, it was also used to monitor the population and search for dissenters. Those implants kept the people in line and chained to the will of their 'leaders'. With each new technological advancement, the people were forced lower beneath the boots of their oppressors.

Every whisper of revolution was snuffed before it could pass more than a few hundred mouths. Every hope of change and freedom was crushed with extreme prejudice. People were expected to live day in and day out at the whims of those in power. Fake smiles on plastic faces were seen on everyone yet none were happy. They couldn't afford to express their hate or fear. It was a world led by rapacious, power-hungry tyrants. But they were growing arrogant in their standings. Every now and again a rumor would rise of some who couldn't be controlled. Those that the technology and cybernetics rejected. Those with gifts well beyond what the authority could fight. They were called the Iconoclast. Again, those rumors would be silenced but they were _there_. And, most importantly, they were _true._

As Jason took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city. An eerie silence swept across the crumbling metropolis as the electric buzz of neon lights and gaudy ads fizzled out. For the first time in a long time a sort of peace reigned. He knew it was just the initial calm before the storm. Soon, the riots would begin. With the power out, the regime was at a disadvantage. They relied heavily on their pieces of technology to subdue and maintain control over citizens. The military-grade EMP that had just been detonated would knock those pretty little toys out of commission in this localized area for just long enough to get what was needed.

When the lights in his room blacked out, Jason moved. The time to act was now. It's been a long time coming, he mused as he launched himself out of the high-rise window. The wind whipping his face as he hurtled toward the ground at breakneck speeds was exhilarating. He dared to allow a dangerous little grin to pull up his lips. Mentally, he counted down the floors until he had to shoot out his grappling gun. The arc of his swing had him flying low over the heads of the gathering militant police. The shouts rang out, raging cries to shoot him down, and then the bullets sprayed the air around him. The screams of fear and surprise as flames flew from his finger tips to rain down upon them like hellfire was so very satisfying.

Breaking into the military's Black Zone proved a simpler feat when their tools were taken from them. Jason had to get inside. He had to get the weapon that could break the regime for good. It was another rumor, this one more dangerous than all the rest. Any caught spreading it were never heard from again. Too bad they couldn't track the ones that the technology rejected. Jason heard of the tale from a friend of his, another of the Iconoclast named Kyle. Hidden deep in the Black Zone under heavy lock and key was a weapon to bring down their oppressors but it'd be hell to get to. It was an end-all-be-all mission. If they failed, there was a good chance the opportunity would never come again. The defenses would be raised and their EMP would have been wasted. Getting a new one would be next to impossible. This one had cost them too many lives to get their hands on. Jason would surely die if captured. His powers weren't the kind the Regime wanted to control. That's okay, he'd take that risk. _Anything_ was better than being under the thumb of these tyrants.

The bright green of Kyle's constructs flared up the darkness, shedding everything in an almost sickly hue. Words echoed in Jason's head as the battle raged around him. Cautionary advice given to him by the other Iconoclast; the ones who founded the resistance. They warned him not to get cocky. He couldn't be tracked, but he _could_ be shot. Those close to him _could_ be hunted. The regime never played fair. This right here? It was the only way to make sure no more innocent people suffered. The Iconoclast had dwindled to just a handful of people. Too many were killed trying to fight back. Some turned and fought _against_ the rebellion. Those were the worst losses.

It was up to him to slip into the facility and grab the weapon. He was the one most versed in subterfuge that had enough fire power - literally - to get in and out quickly. Everyone had a role to play and his was the most important. The blueprints Tim got a hold of mentioned the secret lower floor housing what they needed. It was totally isolated and completely air-tight. He'd have to burn his way in, it'd seem. Placing a hand on the cool metal floor, he channeled his heat to it's highest degree. Within moments, the area glowed orange before the molten steel dripped away. Once it was large enough, he dropped through the opening and took off down the halls quickly.

Each corridor and room was bathed in an unsettling dark red thanks to the backup generators kicking on. The dark never was much of an issue for someone who burned from the inside out. Heat signatures dotted his vision, alerting him to the guards running through the facility. He navigated on deft feet toward the vault. Jason had gone over the layout of the facility so much that he could probably redraw the blueprints from memory alone. His heart was in his throat the closer he got to the objective. This was it, he could almost _taste_ the freedom.

Finally, he reached the room he needed. The door was solid and smooth, no handle to be seen with a retinal scanner and key card slot. With a smirk, he put his hand up to where one of the hinges would be on the other side and began to melt right through the door. It was taking more time than Jason thought as the door was much thicker than he expected. Soon, alarms blared all around him and he cursed under his breath as he tried to go faster. When the sight of those heat signatures started getting closer, Jason cursed again and drew his hand back. He grumbled in frustration.

"Fuck, I hope this doesn't break the weapon."

With a shake of the hands, he prepared himself. Then, he slammed into the door with a ground-shaking 'BOOM'. It groaned and gave way to the force of the explosion. Sparks and shrapnel flew from the attack. He stumbled into the room, nearly tripping on the debris. A passing thought of how _strange_ the room was flitted through his mind. The walls and floor felt like they were lined with rubber. Then, he immediately went forward for the objective only to stop dead in his tracks. There, at the back of the room where the tool should be was a man. He was sitting on the floor, head down like he was unconscious and arms chained to the wall. This...this wasn't right. It _couldn't_ be right. He was supposed to grab a _weapon_ not a _person._

His mind blanked beyond internal screaming and his heart plummeted as he believed he'd gone wrong somewhere in the facility. He'd ruined their one chance at freedom. Then, he noticed the faint blinking coming from around the stranger's neck. A thick and ungainly collar was locked around his throat and Jason immediately knew what it was. A power suppressor. It was meant to keep the Iconoclast that were caught and not executed from using their abilities. They were often used in conjunction with torture to try and break the person and turn them to the Regime's side. Maybe he wasn't wrong. Maybe this man was the key. If the government was keeping him this well locked away and suppressed, he _had_ to be a powerful threat.

Without any further hesitation, he ran forward. Gently, he touched the collar and applied just enough heat to melt it away. Then, he broke the shackles from the wall. Still, the man didn't move. Jason knelt by him, hoping he wasn't too late to help him. His heat signature was...off. It was flickering wildly now. Perhaps it was his powers returning. Slowly, the man tilted his head to look at his savior. Jason's breath caught for a moment because _wow._ This man was beautiful, even worn down and tired looking. He had crystal blue eyes and sharp features. A small smile tilted up the stranger's lips. A raspy _"Thanks"_ was whispered to Jason. He just nodded in return.

"No problem, but right now we need to _go._ Those assholes are coming and the power will be back on any minute."

Instead of fear, like most would have at hearing the power returning, the man just looked a little amused. Slowly, he stood up and rolled out his shoulders. He was just a few inches shorter than Jason and leaner in build. Most curious though, was the strange black and blue outfit he was wearing. It was almost sinfully tight but segmented like armor. Something in Jason's head whispered to him that it was familiar. Not intimately, but rather like he knew _of_ the armor. A...Founder? _It couldn't be._ The man looked nearly his age!

The two made to exit but were stopped by a militia of soldiers both armed and angry. Jason was mentally cursing and trying to think of a way out of this. He peeked at his new partner and had to do a double take. His eyes. They were _changing._ Before, they were a brilliant blue hue but now they were even brighter, almost incandescent in the shadows. With each passing moment, they grew in intensity until they were glowing. The shouts to 'put your hands behind your head and get on the ground' went ignored as the man smiled a little more. The soldiers shifted stance. Their unease and  _fear_ was practically screaming.

A crack of thunder shook the room and a flare of lightning nearly blinded Jason. He had to shield his eyes from the bright light. When he lowered his hand, the soldiers were on the floor and arcs of electricity danced around the metal hallway. The high screech of the alarms and vivid red of the backup lights were now gone. Everything was pitched into darkness. The stranger just brushed off his hands and looked at Jason with a playful smirk.

"You coming, Hero?"

For a moment, Jason was struck by shock and awe. They were right. He was the key. He could take out their technology, take away the shackles from the civilians. No wonder he was locked away. And ' _Hero'?_ Jason felt a little giddy at the title. No one was called a hero since they were hunted down and outlawed. To be called such by the Regime was to be branded for death. To be named such by an Iconoclast or Rebel was the highest praise. An honor given to those in remembrance of the ones lost in the initial stand. He rushed forward to catch up to the black and blue armored man.

"So, uh, what's your name?"

Casual conversation while tearing through a fortified military complex? No big deal. Not when the two of them made short work of the enemies. Between the man's ability to knock out power and electrocute people and Jason's control over fire, there wasn't much they couldn't get through. All those fancy devices the soldiers tried to use to take them down were useless once the lightning struck. It made Jason wonder just how he'd managed to get caught in the first place. That probably wasn't an appropriate ice breaking question, though. With a glance and small, friendly grin more suited for a relaxed setting and not a deadly battle, the man answered.

"I'm Dick."

Jason gave him a somewhat skeptical look, not knowing if he was being serious or joking around.

"Really?"

He got a little nod in return and an amused look.

"Well, my name is Richard, but I go by Dick."

"By _choice?"_

"Yep!"

Jason was utterly flabbergasted. He just couldn't fathom why someone would willingly _choose_ to be called Dick. Sure, it wasn't really the right time to be thinking about this. But, hey, it was better than thinking about how many of his friends he was going to have to bury after this attack. It was sad that he knew more dead people than living at this point. Jason just shook his head to will the depressing thoughts away as he kicked the last guard in the room away. They were coming up on the exit. They were _so_ _close._

"How the _hell_ do you get 'Dick' from 'Richard'?"

It was something that bothered him. It just...didn't make sense to him. A mirthful laugh was his response. Damn, the dude had a pretty laugh too. That's just unfair. Their banter was interrupted by a loud 'BANG' and screams from just outside. Knowing they were so close to freedom, the two bolted for the exit. Just beyond the door was a hellish scene. Soldiers lay scattered across the ground. Sirens wailed and reinforcements were on their way. The lights flickered back on. A large blue band wrapped around the facility's border. The forcefield meant to keep people out - and _in_ \- was back up. Dick didn't look very scared. Jason had to admire his courage as the two let the fire and lightning build around them. Suddenly, Dick looked at him with mischief in his eyes.

"You ask nicely, Hero."

With a wink, he took off in a strike of lightning and crashed into battle. Jason just stared at him, mouth slightly agape for a minute before he shook it off and entered the fray. Ask nicely? Shit, he might just have to start working on his manners.

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more for this, like a prequel for how Dick got captured, why he wasn't executed, and meet other Iconoclasts (like Tim). But, we'll see lol my To Do list is huge. As for why the suppressor collar works on Iconoclasts when I said technology rejects them, that technology I'm referring to are the implants used to control and monitor people. Tech not implanted into the body (like the collars) works on them.


End file.
